


A Long Walk Home

by CBlue



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, how do I tage Sheriff Stilinski learning to let his son go??, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 01:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBlue/pseuds/CBlue
Summary: While most parents worry about what their children sneak out to do, Sheriff Stilinski worries about what sneaks in.





	A Long Walk Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in like two hours with no editing. I wrote this on a whim. I have no regrets.

Outside the Stilinski residence, Sheriff Stilinski finally made it to his home after a long shift. He could see Stiles' window open clear as day. Open windows only meant one thing in the Stilinski household, and while most parents worried about their kids sneaking out, it was definitely what was sneaking in to see Stiles that kept the Sheriff up at night.

He sighed and shook his head as he continued into his own house because he wouldn't be detered by whatever Derek Hale and his son may or may not been becoming recently. It was a changing time for Stiles. He was newly graduated and had at least ten great colleges to choose from. The young man was truly discovering what he wanted out of life.

Not that Sheriff Stilinski hadn't always thought Stiles knew exactly what he wanted. And what Stiles wanted was Derek Hale. For all the danger and madness that Derek Hale, the werewolf, seemed to have brought into their lives he had made changes for the better.

Sheriff Stilinski had always thought it would be Stiles and Scott against the world. When the Sheriff would lack where Stiles needed him, the boy would always have his best friend. And while there were moments that it was still glaringly obvious how the two were brothers, more often than not it was Stiles who was there as Scott needed him and not the other way around.

The wolfy business, while not directly Stiles fault by any means, had been turned into a bushfire by his adventurous spirit. Of course, had it not been poor Scott being bitten by a rogue werewolf, it would have been some unlucky schmuck. At least Scott had Stiles, and then the rest was history.

Well, Derek Hale fit into the mix somewhere. The Sheriff never got all the details, and he thanked God for that, so he wasn't quite sure where Stiles accusing the man of murder become Stiles defending the werewolf with his life. It was plain as day to anyone who had ever spotted the two whether they were next to each other or not. They fought and bickered like the best of them, but their downright fondness for one another always made the Sheriff circle his ring around his finger.

The Sheriff's mind drifted as he locked his front door quietly behind him. He had seen Derek Hale, once thought mass murderer, once Alpha-fucking-werewolf, actually blush under Stiles' soft praise. The spluttering his son had done in denial of anything between the two when the Sheriff had confronted him about it was almost cute.

Almost.

And while the Sheriff wouldn't parade it about, he would trust Derek Hale with his life. But that didn't mean he trusted him with his son. So, when the Sheriff had cornered the Hale about his intentions toward his son, he hadn't been expecting the answer Derek had given him.

"I don't have any intentions, sir." Derek said clearly.

The Sheriff blinked once and then twice. He might not have had the wolves' hearing that Stiles doted on about, but he was the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. He knew a damn lie when he saw one. So when he saw no trace of a lie on Derek's features, he was flabbergasted.

"You have no intentions toward my son." The Sheriff repeated slowly.

Derek nodded. "Yes, sir."

The Sheriff shifted his stance, holding his hands on his hip just above his service belt. He fixed his jaw as he thought over his words carefully. "So you weren't making cow eyes at Stiles over the dinner table on Tuesday?"

He almost felt sorry for cornering the poor man in the grocery market. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. The Sheriff had never seen Derek look for an exit amidst the fresh produce, but here he was. It was nice to know he could put the fear of God into the werewolf as if he couldn't be immune to the only bullets the Sheriff was carrying with him. He almost buckled over with laughter at the thought of him terrifying Derek, as if Stiles himself wasn't a terror in his own right.

"I never said that, sir." Derek shifted awkwardly on his feet. He avoided any sort of eye contact with the Sheriff. Almost snickering, the Sheriff hadn't known avocados were that interesting.

Then Derek's words caught up to his brain. It was no wonder where Stiles got it from. The Sheriff furrowed his brow for a moment. "So, let me make sure I have all my facts," he started and watched as Derek's nervousness built up a sense of unease in his chest despite his protective urges over Stiles, "you're making doe eyes at my son, but you have no intentions toward him?"

Derek nodded slowly, as if fearing the wrong answer. The Sheriff couldn't help but idly wonder why the boy looked so damn afraid of him. He knew he could be an imposing figure, but the shit that McCall-Hale pack (or as Stiles dubbed it, the McHale Pack) on a weekly basis was enough to send the Sheriff home without sleep for a few weeks. The countless number of nights were he and Stiles shared each other's company in silence well pass midnight shook him with a primal fear that he might not be able to protect his son.

"Yes, sir." Derek responded shortly. His shoulders were so tense that the Sheriff feared poking him would pop him.

The Sheriff rubbed his palm against his jaw. He looked over Derek's form, somewhere between stiffer than a board and constantly fidgeting. He wondered if he picked up that fidgeting from constant exposure to Stiles. "Why?" He asked simply.

Derek's eyes widened even further if possible. He looked Honest-To-God surprised that the Sheriff hadn't shot him right there for his admission to his attraction to his just-legal son and instead asked him why. And in that moment, the Sheriff realized he was surprised like he hadn't even considered the possibility of making it out of this unscathed.

When his question went unanswered for a moment, the Sheriff switched tatics. He nodded and shrugged as he placed his hands on his hips again. "I mean, I can't say that I blame you. I know my kid isn't easy to get on with." He shot Derek a tight lipped smile. "Sure, all the kids think he's the cat's meow now that he's supposed to be going places,  but when it wears off? He'll just be Stiles."

The Sheriff almost grimaced at his own words. He hated the bitter truths of it. When Stiles had fought and died for the small circle of friends he had now and suddenly all of his high school wanted something to do with the prospecting Harvad student... It wasn't easy as it was thinking about how his son was going to go off to some college miles away from him, but the thought of all the false friends he'll make on the way gives him more chesy burn than any food he'd been forbidden to eat.

Sure, Stiles had his wits about him and was smart, but he had his mother's heart sometimes. Despite his own cynicism and what he tried convincing himself of, Stiles always tried. So the Sheriff spoke nothing but truths. Stiles was annoying shit sometimes, but most of the time he was a hard working young man who would do anything for the people he loved. You just had to put up with the lip he gave.

"He's always been Stiles." Derek spoke carefully. His brows furrowed as he tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle. "I... Care about him enough to know to let go."

The Sheriff froze for a moment in his stance. He was sure Derek could detect his heartbeat or however the hell the werewolves did that, but he couldn't help it. The overwhelming fondess that bled into Derek's words were nearly astounding had the Sheriff not been knocked off course by his self-deprecating laced words.

Adjusting his jaw again, the Sheriff eased his stance into something more relaxed. "Don't you think it's high time about chance you gave him the choice?"

Again Derek blinked, startled. It was a bit of an ego boost to have caught the wolf off guard. The Sheriff doubted he'd be able to do it again, but it was a nice feeling. "Sir-"

"Derek," the Sheriff cut him off, "I know who you are, and more importantly Stiles does." The Sheriff inhaled deeply. He hadn't been expecting this. He had expected Derek to awkwardly say that yes they were dating and that the Sheriff would give him a mandated shovel talk where Stiles would definitely do the shoveling and be off buying God-Forsaken kale.

He hadn't been expecting to confront a young man scared of doing all the wrong things. Nervous beyond belief, and just wanting the best for someone he cared about. So no, the Sheriff had not been planning on actually having to say he gave his blessing. Stilinskis didn't do feelings like that.

Except maybe he was going to start to have to.

He bit the bullet and it went down easier seeing the genuine surprise and softness in Derek's face. "I trust you, and he does too. So trust him." The Sheriff's demeanor softened into something only reserved for Stiles and on occasion Scott. "You're doing great, kid. Keep it up." He gave a solid pat to Derek's shoulder.

Derek's eyes almost trembled in his skull as he looked from the Sheriff's hand to his face. He swallowed after a moment and gave a cautious nod. "I'll do my best, sir."

"John." The Sheriff corrected. "Sir is when I'm on duty or Stiles is in trouble." He teases with mirth. "Now come on, son. I think you're the best eye I've got to get something other than damn kale." The Sheriff grinned as he slowly draped his arm over Derek's shoulder. He knew enough about Derek's bad touch history (read: received an earful on etiquette from Stiles) to know to give ample time for unwanted touches to be rejected.

Derek instead returned the smile, albeit more shy and still traced with anxiousness. He nodded. "Yes, si-John." He corrected himself as he became acquainted with the familiarity.

And after that, the rest was history. Well, history that was only a few months ago. The Sheriff shook his head, chuckling quietly as he made his way up to his room. He couldn't say he regretted the day Stiles came home, cheeks flushed and chest thundering.

Stiles had raced through the front door, slamming it shut behind him. His wide eyes and dilated pupils put the Sheriff on high alert as he stood from where he sat on the couch.

"What is it?" He asked carefully as he reached for his side arm.

Stiles gaped for air, or quite possibly his words, before he could face his father. The bright red that rested high on his cheeks darkened at his father's attention. "He kissed me."

The Sheriff blinked as he released his iron grip on his fire arm. "What?" He shook his head before realizing the flush to Stiles' cheeks were not from exertion. At least not any sort of exertion the Sheriff needed to know.

Well, maybe he needed to know what was happening with his son and a certain werewolf, but he didn't need details, alright?

"I said he kissed me." Stiles repeated, just as breathless. "Derek Hale kissed me." He raised a hand to his right cheek in hopes that it would cool his face. Judging by the breathy laugh, he had no such luck.

"Derek Hale kissed you." The Sheriff repeated and he was starting to feel like a damn recorder for these two.

Seemingly remembering who he was telling this to, Stiles eyes widened impossibly large. "It was totally consensual!" He remedied by yelling at the Sheriff. Stiles grimaced at his own volume. "So consensual. It was all very consensual with the talking beforehand and the kissing after. Totally consensual kissing." Stiles rambled on.

The Sheriff sighed to hide his small growing smile. He raised an eyebrow at his son before gesturing to the small table in their kitchen. "So, Derek Hale kissed you?"

Stiles beamed brightly before rolling in flailing limbs to sit at one of the seats. "So Derek and I were at his place, right?"

And while Stiles spared him more details that he was extremely thankful for being spared, Stiles and the Sheriff had an honest heart to heart about where they were going and where Stiles was going. The far away college letters had been put to the bottom of the pile and the closer ones, or the ones online, had been put to the top. Derek Hale had a place of good standing in the community and a stable job and, much to the Sheriff's pleasure and Stiles' surprise, gotten some damn credit to fix the old Hale House.

The Sheriff smiled as he finally sat himself on his bed, removing his shoes. They had been through a lot together. Fighting monsters, fighting each other. But it was damn well worth it. The Sheriff could tell by how Derek smiled at Stiles when he thought he wasn't looking, and how Stiles' hands nearly danced when he spoke about Derek. Chuckling softly as he stripped himself of his uniform to change into something more comfortable, the Sheriff couldn't help but think of Derek Hale, stuttering and nervous in his kitchen.

"I know it's early." Derek had reassured him.

The Sheriff nodded as he looked to his swirling coffee. "Early." He said softly between the two of them.

Derek swallowed harshly. "Yes." He inhaled shakily. "I just.. I want to do this right."

Looking up to meet Derek's eyes, the Sheriff raised an eyebrow. "So what do you want, son?"

He could see Derek square his shoulders. He readied himself with a deep breath. "I want Stiles to move in with me." Large fingers trembled nervously with his own cup.

The Sheriff snorted a laugh, causing Derek to jerk his head up to face him. "Why the hell are you asking me for? Stiles is... An adult." He spoke carefully. His gut clenched at the idea of Stiles moving far away from him, but somehow the idea of him living so close but in his own home was even more terrifying.

"I want your blessing." Derek said after a quiet moment had passed in the thick atmosphere.

The Sheriff's left brow quirked upward. "Is this a wolf thing?" He asked curiously.

"No." Derek said hurriedly. "It's... I want to do this right."

Watching a fully grown werewolf sit hunched over in his kitchen was almost sombering. The reality of the situation hit the Sheriff like a bag full of bricks. Which was to say, a shit ton. His Stiles, his child and only thing left in this world save for the hodgepodge family the boy had helped thrown together, really was grown. Wasn't he?

Perhaps not fully grown, but growing. And definitely leaving the nest. Because of course Stiles would jump at the chance to live with his boyfriend. Out from under the roof of his father and straight into his slowly budding adult life. It was all that the Sheriff had wanted for him. Well, he had wanted safety for Stiles and security. While he hadn't been getting that exactly how he had envisioned it, a super werewolf boyfriend that was crazy about him was as close as he could ask for in this life.

"Yeah." The Sheriff said as his voice broke. "Yes, you have my blessing Derek."

The smile that Derek gave him was blinding. His posture immediately eased in the small kitchen that the Sheriff had seen both of his boys grow up in. Because despite his reservations, Derek Hale was his boy, and he'd be damned if anyone told him different. And Derek Hale had grown and matured in a way that blossomed another bloom of pride in the Sheriff's chest. He may not have raised the boy, but it was his honor to watch him grow into the man he is now.

Settling under his covers, the Sheriff smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. Stiles was just finishing moving his things and would be out of the house by the end of the month. The Sheriff wanted to hold on to his son with his every last breath. He wanted his son to never leave him. He didn't want to worry by never knowing if his son came home or not, but he supposed his son was already a young man. His work at the station kept them apart, and this distance now would divide them too.

But perhaps that growth wasn't a bad thing. It would leave room for thicker roots to grow. Thicker roots and tighter bonds. He would love his son and never stop worrying about him, or whatever crept into his window. But the Sheriff had a feeling that maybe with Derek Hale laying next to him, he didn't have to worry as much about Stiles.

_"Oh, Derek!"_

He couldn't wait until he moved out of the damn house.


End file.
